The Life Thief
by Dead Corpse
Summary: Legends tell of an old book, older than time itself. It is said that whoever reads this book will gain the power of immortality. When an old Breton who is doomed to die hears of this book, he sets out to find it. But perhaps it was not meant to be found.
1. Success at Last

Eduard Roliand entered the cave. He was shaking with excitement. After years of searching, he was within only a few feet of his prize.

The cave was as dark as midnight. Eduard quickly drew out his torch, lighting it with a simple Flare spell. He looked around in the sudden light.

It was magnificent. Truly magnificent. The room he was in was gigantic, thrice the size of any chapel in Cyrodil. He began walking toward the opposite end of the room, where his fabled treasure lay, undisturbed for decades, possibly centuries.

As he continued on his way, he heard a slow dripping coming from somewhere inside. It was no surprise. It had rained for three days straight, and was only just now starting to let up.

He almost slipped on a loose pebble on the floor, but caught his balance in time to prevent himself harm.

Finally, he found his way to the edge of the cave. There, on a stone table, lay what he was searching for. Finally, it was almost over. As his eyes set upon it, his heart skipped a beat.

It was a large black book, with symbols in both Ayleid and Dwemer on its front cover. As old as it was, it was in great condition. The binding was slightly torn in places, but, overall, it was brilliant.

His hand slowly reached out for it. One finger touched it, then another. He could feel power and confidence coursing through his veins as he grasped it. He held it up to the light of the torch.

Inside it was more Ayleid and Dwemer writing. He would have to translate it later. For now, he carefully put it into his small traveling bag, and headed back from whence he had come.

He noticed that the dripping was picking up. Eduard could not be sure, but he thought he could hear something scrambling around in the darkness. The cold fingers of fear began to slowly take a firm grasp on his mind.

He pulled out his dagger, looking around himself, fearful of what he might see. Despite his fear, nothing came. It must have been his imagination. He continued toward the door to the outside of the cave.

He reached out and tried to open it, but it wouldn't budge. Suddenly Eduard's heart sank. Fear latched on with a full grasp this time.

He heard more scuffling, and the constant dripping grew steadier and steadier, until it was all he could hear. He held up his torch as high as possible, and shouted, "Who's there? Come out here, you coward!"

His words were hollow. He was losing his mind from his sudden fear. The constant dripping was driving him mad, slowing his thought processes. He screamed.

He quickly took out the book, dropping his dagger. He tried to read what it said, but had failed to study enough of the language before coming here. He said a silent prayer to the Nine.

He began to sweat profusely, his fear was becoming uncontrollable. The dripping was louder and faster still, drowning his thoughts. He heard yet another scuffling noise, and screamed in sheer terror.

Suddenly, he heard a scream from someone else. He looked in the direction of the voice, and saw the silhouette of a man, black on black. The light from his torch reflected off of something, steel.

The figure was drawing the steel object upon him. In his last few seconds of life, Eduard saw that the man was wielding a dagger, and it was pointed upon his face. He also noticed the figure's eyes. He had no pupils; his eyes were a gray abyss, cold and lifeless.

Suddenly, death was upon him, and he was in the afterlife. The figure rummaged through the sack, and found the book. He scurried back over to the stone table, and placed it as it had been.

Then he retreated back to the shadows, eagerly awaiting the next poor soul to try and trick the gods.


	2. Tale of the Thief

Gregory Maric awoke from his dream slightly shaken. He had experienced the dream again, the one that had plagued him for months.

In it, he was a child again. He was outside, with his father, helping tend to the animals and raise the vegetables. Suddenly, he would hear a scream from the house. He would run inside, only to find his mother and younger brother were being attacking by a hideous creature that seemed to be made of shadows.

He would watch as his family were slain, and then his father would attempt to attack the thing, and fail. With all of his family dead, the creature would turn upon him. It would rear back to strike, and just as it touched him, he would awake, sometimes covered in sweat, yelling for his family.

Oddly, the Shadow never had a definite shape. It seemed humanoid, but it never stayed in the exact same form. Sometimes it would have horns; other times, it would have a tail; still others, it would have abnormalities such as four arms instead of two.

But it never had a mouth, and it never had eyes. Only two black ears that could hear his every hearbeat. Gregory was horrified of it. It was the most frightening thing he had ever seen.

Luckily, it wasn't real. He didn't even know where it would have come from. He had no trauma related to this sort of thing at all in his past. His parents had died natural deaths several years ago, and his brother lived in Chorrol, where he had married and had three children; two girls and one boy.

Gregory, while growing older, had never wed. He had always been to busy for it. For a long time, it was the fact that he had to work outside for long hours just to get enough food to survive for another day.

Luckily, he made a few lucky investments, and no longer had to work every day to live. But then, tragedy struck him. He was stricken with some strange, previously unheard-of disease. The local healers said that something was wrong with his heart, and that he had less than two years to live, less if he continued his strenous work days.

So he stopped. He started to save his money and only spend on food and small entertainments. He was determined to live as long as he could, even if it was a boring life.

He found that he had quite a knack for reading. He had never had much interest in books or scrolls before, but now, it was almost all he did. He possessed many rare books as well, ones that collectors would kill for.

Currently, he was reading a book called _Wonders of the World_, which detailed many rare and precious items scattered around Tamriel. So far, all had been spectacular, but nothing he needed, and none that would help him in his predicament.

But, as he read it in the early morning sun, one particular item caught his attention. It was called "The Stealer of Living" or, "The Life Thief". It was an ancient book written by the Ayleids, but also had passages in Dwemer writing.

What made it so appealing was the legend associated with it. It was said to have been written by an ancient Ayleid elder, and in it contained stories of old. It was legend that the author had poured his entire soul into the book.

And therein lay its wonder. Whoever read it was granted immortality, and all of their earthly illnesses were banished forever. Gregory was instantly obsessed with it.

With this book, he could heal himself. He wouldn't have to worry about his illness, or about ever working to keep himself alive. After he got the book, he would be able to do whatever he pleased, for the rest of eternity.

There was a small warning in the pages, however. It said that, though the book's power was great, the gods did not think kindly upon mortals attempting to reach godly stature, and so, in a way, it was cursed. Gregory paid the warning no mind. He had never believed in a god or gods anyway. It was all religious propaganda.

Unfortunately, _Wonders of the World _gave no location of where this book was, and said that it was supposedly unseen by any civilized eyes for centuries. That was unfortunate, but he was not going to be stopped that easily.

Gregory knew of a few wise men and monks that resided throughout Cyrodil. He would speak with them. Surely they would have ensight as to where the book was. As the day went on, he got more and more excited. He was going to do it, one way or another.

But he would need help. The monks were located in peaceful oases surrounded by danger. Luckily, he knew just who to go to. He could not be stopped now.

---

Thanks for your review. Nothing I like better. And I'm open to flaming, so insult me if you want, so long as its constructive, and not random crap.

I'll probably update once to twice a week, sometimes more if I get really into it. Expect lots of violence later on into the story. You know, people getting sliced up, impaled, and generally dismembered. May have to switch it to M later on, but I'll keep here for now.

Plural of "oasis". I didn't know what it was before I looked it up, so just putting it up there so you know what I'm referring to.


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